


Choices

by Pretendthisisfiction (HelloIWriteFanfic)



Category: Daniel Howell - Fandom, Phil Lester - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 01:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloIWriteFanfic/pseuds/Pretendthisisfiction
Summary: Post-tour life can be overwhelming.





	Choices

The fog hung low and heavy over the expanse of Northern countryside, coating everything in tones of dreamy grey and pale green.

It was dawn now, which made the surroundings slightly more favorable, but not by much, and the damp still clung to everything. It was April, but the cold of wintertime hadn’t given way to spring yet. 

The muscles in Phil’s arms were stiff, locked into the ten-and-two position for what had seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t an awful driver, despite what everyone liked to think, but he wasn’t comfortable enough behind the wheel to allow himself to relax like Dan was. His eyesight of course also did little to help, all the darkness and fog over the course of the night had left him with his eyes now burning from strain. He wouldn’t say anything though, not yet at least. He knew that he could pull the rented SUV to the gravely side of the road if things got to be too bad. 

He flicked the headlights of the car off as the sun began to crest over the hills, shocking him with clear white morning light and making his nose crinkle as he blindly felt around the glove compartment for his sunglasses. They were the matching ones him and Dan had bought themselves before leaving for America on tour. 

Flicking the glasses open took him back to that time. Plenty of things did that nowadays. It had become unignorable, the flashbacks. The tiny details that would shock him through the day that struck Phil back into some car in Pittsburgh or Denver, visions of Dan curled up next to him, as he is now - but different. 

America had been hectic and heart-stopping. When describing the experience out loud it tended to sound like everything Phil would normally hate with a passion, deadlines and crowds and constant moving...He was steady, he worked at his own pace and home and balance were vital to him, but it had been like a release. He’s spent twelve years self-managing his career, his life. Dealing with press and drama and all the intricacies of running a business in a totally undeveloped field, he loved what he did, he loved making videos and he knew how lucky he was to be able to do what he does, but when tour started it was suddenly so much bigger than just himself, or Dan, or their tiny new team of management back in London. It was drivers picking them up and taking them everywhere, assistants and security, rigorous schedules that somebody else made for them and made sure they stuck to. For the first time in over a decade, Phil had been able to breathe. 

They had been back for five weeks now, and he was adjusting. They had attended all their obligatory meetings, Phil had uploaded, they were mostly unpacked. There wasn’t pressure yet to do anything major, but the weight had been unavoidable. The terrifying cloud of the unknown future looming over them, the safety of every decision of their lives being made for them yanked away so suddenly.

And Dan, he always takes change so much harder than Phil.

He reckons that it probably all goes back to childhood. Even when things changed, he always had support and comfort from his family, he had a fallback, he had friends, even when his career felt unstable and scary, he knew he had a college degree to go back and use should he ever need it. 

But Dan had been stuck in limbo his entire life. There had never been any safety net, no gentle peace for him to learn how to adjust to life comfortably. He always tells Phil that the home they have together- the life they have together, is the first time he’s ever felt anything close to safe before in his life. 

So Phil has done his best to always keep things stable, gentle, and clear. He wasn’t Dan’s caretaker by any means and his partner wasn’t weak. They were symbiotic, and the balance they created was the best thing that had ever happened to Phil. 

It was so endlessly frustrating that Phil couldn’t have prevented this. 

It had started in the first week back home. It may have begun sooner, but they had slept for most of that time so any changes in behavior were indiscernible. 

Dan had been stood in the kitchen, bare feet on the tile floor just visible under too-long black joggers and his hands were tucked into the front of Phil’s York jumper. His curls were rumpled from sleep, and his eyes were still a little red. They had both been waking up early as of late, adjusted to their working schedule in America. Phil had been up for hours, answering emails in the lounge, hoping to clear work away so him and Dan might go out tonight. He was getting cooped up in the apartment, a restlessness that was new to him. 

“You making tea then?” He asked, coming up behind Dan and wrapping his arms around his partner’s hips, resting his chin on Dan’s soft shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Dan mumbled back, and Phil smiled. Dan’s accent was always more slurred when he first woke up, picking up hints of Phil’s own Northern drawl. He had never pointed it out, but he loved it all the same. 

“What kind are you thinking today?” He asked, nodding towards the cabinet in front of them. They needed to do better at minding the kitchen. The shelves were stuffed with half-filled boxes of teas or coffees for Phil. 

“I can’t- I can’t decide.” Dan frowned, huffing out a sigh and pulling out of Phil’s grasp to turn and face his boyfriend. “We shouldn’t have so many kinds, it just makes everything difficult.” 

“It’s only tea, Dan.”   
Phil looked at Dan properly then, frowning at the stress lines traced over his boyfriend’s forehead. His dark eyes were clouded with that uneasy, hesitant look he always had on when he wanted to say more, but wouldn’t. Dan never failed to try and hold back everything, guarded beyond reason even after all this time, as if he could say anything at this point that would make Phil leave. 

“It’s not- It’s not…” Dan started, frowning now as the sentence fell away and he contemplated what it was he actually wanted to say. “I just think things would be easier if we had less choices. I don’t- I never know what kind is best so if there was less to choose I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, you know?” 

He looked back to Phil then, his gaze hopeful, glancing over Phil’s features to make sure his boyfriend wasn’t looking back to him with judgement. 

Phil knew he needed to choose his next words carefully, scaring Dan away from a proper discussion of his feelings was easier than breathing. 

“Dan, are we still talking about tea?” He started gently, allowing Dan to just come forward with what he was worried about instead of Phil having to drag it out of him. 

Dan bit his lip, shaking his head a little as if to rid any worries from his mind before letting out a short laugh and turning back to the cupboard. “Totally, obviously. I fancy mint today I think.” 

He proceeded to ignore Phil, pulling away from the cabinet and going about making the tea in silence. 

Phil had known, even then what the issue was. Dan liked having a plan, he craved direction and proper validation like a starving man and when his delicately constructed structures were disturbed, he freaked out. The tour had been a safe cocoon of schedules and constant congratulations for work well done. It must’ve been like a living fantasy for Dan. Which isn’t to say of course it hadn’t been a relief for Phil also, but he didn’t depend on direction the way Dan did. 

This kind of thing has carried on for weeks. Dan, muting his text notifications to avoid friends and family asking him what he was up to now that he was back. Dan, having to excuse himself from a BBC party when an old co-worker asked him when he would be uploading again. Dan, bursting into tears when Phil had subtly brought up the topic of if they were renewing their lease on the flat or not. 

Phil had developed a special kind of patience over the years for these kinds of things. He had his own issues with anxiety and he knew it wasn’t something that Dan could just get over. He needed his time to mull it over, and sometimes that could be months, but Phil would be there waiting whenever Dan was ready. He helped as much as he could, making sure that Dan was actually going to his therapy appointments and not just sleeping through them in the room. He kept a list of creative prompts on the fridge to help inspire him to write even just the tiniest thing. He held Dan through the panic attacks and redirected the big work decisions to his own email as much as he could. He knew that he could only put off so much for so long, but Dan would do the same for him. 

He was on the sofa when the dam finally broke. He had been settled there since the morning, alternating between watching some documentary on the telly and typing out emails. He had even posted a little update for his members, so he was feeling pretty productive. 

Dan had been gone since before he was even awake for therapy. The appointments were only about an hour and a half long but Dan always took some time after to walk, get a coffee, and go over everything that they’d talked about. Phil did admire that about his boyfriend. He didn’t know anyone else who valued introspection as much as Dan. His partner was constantly growing and changing, learning about himself to become the best version of himself. Phil thought Dan was perfect anyway, but he knew it mattered to Dan, so he supported him. He’d even introduced some of his practices from therapy to Phil, and a few had been duds but Phil had taken a liking to journaling and the breathing exercises genuinely helped a lot with his anxiety. 

He knew today was different as soon as Dan stepped through the door though. 

Phil looked up from the sofa with a big grin, eager to go over their mornings with his boyfriend, but was immediately taken back by how red Dan’s eyes were. He wasn’t even looking at Phil directly, his posture was crumpled in on himself and his shoulders were set in such a hard line Phil thought it must hurt. 

“Dan?” He started, pushing his laptop away and standing, crossing the lounge in a few long strides to meet Dan by the door. Dan still wouldn’t look at him as Phil took his boyfriend’s hands in his own and squeezed. “What’s going on? What happened?” 

“I want to delete my channel.” Dan said, and despite how wrecked he looked, his voice was steady and quiet. 

Phil’s stomach dropped at that, and he swears that the apartment had never seemed so quiet before. 

They had both joked about deleting before. In moments of exhaustion on tour, or exasperated moments during editing when they just wanted to go to bed, but never, even despite ten years of constant turbulence, had either of them genuinely suggested it. 

“Dan- Just-” Phil started, and then stopped to take in a deep breath. It was like a wave of exhaustion had just washed over him. He loved Dan, he loved him so much it hurt, but he was no good at this. He always felt like he was saying the wrong thing, he always felt helpless. 

“Let’s sit down, okay? We can figure this out.” 

Dan shook his head, wrinkling his nose a little as if the idea of talking about what was going on actually disgusted him. 

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it, Phil. For once I just want to make a decision and not have to talk through every tiny detail or think it over for months and months and-” 

His voice rose higher as he spoke and he pulled his hands away from Phil, shoving one into his dark curls that were still damp from the rain outside. “I’m sick of acting like a child who’s too afraid to make a single fucking decision because it might not be the right one. I’m sick of hating every idea I come up with because nothing is gonna be good enough after the tour, I’m sick of therapy, I’m sick of everybody wanting to know what I’m doing, I’m sick of everybody actually knowing what i’m doing. I- fuck!” 

Phil’s eyes widened as Dan went on. He had pushed away from the door and was now pacing around the lounge, dark eyes fixed to the floor as Phil watched on, unsure as to what he was supposed to do. He didn’t like raised voices, he didn’t like rash anger, he could feel a headache pin-pricking behind his eyes now even. 

“A girl took a fucking photo of me leaving therapy! Fucking therapy, Phil!” He finally turned to actually look at his boyfriend, and he was shaking now, gesticulating wildly with one hand as the other still clutched his curls. “I’m tired of being fucking looked at, I’m tired of being fucking thought of by people who don’t even know me!” 

“Dan-” Phil cut in, stopped Dan before he could get any louder. “The building isn’t marked on the outside, I’m sure nobody will know what you were doing there.” He tried to console him, stepping forward slowly and keeping his voice low. 

“That’s not the point! That’s not the point at-fucking-all!” 

Phil prided himself on his patience, and he loved Dan, he did. But it was so fucking frustrating when Dan would act as if it was just him against the world. As if nobody could possibly understand or help with the storm going on in his head. They had been together for ten years, why couldn’t he just let Phil in? 

“So is that what you’re going to do? Just delete everything and give up?” 

Phil didn’t mean for his voice to come out so hard. God, he was bad at this. It felt like his tongue was made of putty and he just flubbed out some shit that was alwyas terrible. It was a miracle he had made it this far in life at all. 

Dan spun on him, jaw twitching as he pushed forward into Phil’s space, head tilted down to stare hard into Phil’s eyes as an almost manic smile twitched at his lips. “So you’re going to do it too, right? You’re gonna be another person who just expects shit from me all the time?” 

They weren’t going to do this. They completely weren’t going to do this, Phil wasn’t going to let them. Except it had already started and Dan was having a breakdown and Phil had weeks and weeks of built up stress from trying to hold the world back from Dan. 

“Yes! I’m going to expect shit from you, Daniel! I’m going to expect you to take a second before making a decision that drastically changes both of our lives and everything we’ve worked on! All I ever want to do is help you and you just won’t let me!” 

He was shouting back now, and usually, this would be the point that he’d start to feel tears prick at his eyes, always one to cry as soon as fights started to get actually serious, but he was just too damn exhausted and his headache was properly raging now, He just wanted to walk to the bedroom and start the day over again so maybe he could’ve been prepared for this. 

“I don’t- I don’t want to need help Phil. I just want to turn it all of and disappear and restart everything. I’m so fucking tired of all of this pressure all the time.” 

Dan’s shoulders dropped and Phil could see Dan’s own tears brimming over chocolate eyes. He was shocked by how deeply exhausted Dan looked and he felt his own resolve crumple. 

“We’re too far gone to be able to just take it all back, Daniel. And I understand, more than anyone else could, actually. It’s overwhelming and scary and feeling like there always has to be a next step planned is scary, but this is our life! You have a whole team of people who want to help figure this out for you, and- and you have me, Dan. You always have me.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Just Phil watching as Dan stared at the carpet. 

“It hurts- It hurts a lot when you act like I don’t get you. I’m not trying to tell you how to feel, but you have to know that i’m here, Dan. And I want us to figure this all out together, as a team. You don’t have to do everything alone, needing help doesn’t make you weak.” 

Dan was proper crying now. Still quiet, even though he was loud at every other time, he was always so quiet when he cried. 

Phil stepped forward, gingerly pulling Dan against him and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Dan tucked his head against Phil’s collar and he felt Dan’s shoulders shaking still. “I just want a moment where everything is quiet again.” Dan whispered, almost like he didn’t even want Phil to hear. 

Phil stared at the art they had framed on the wall in front of them as he held Dan against his chest, his fingers absently stroking through Dan’s hair. He made a decision then, for both of them. One that seemed so obvious as soon as it occurred to him. 

“Alright, let’s disappear for a while.”   
Dan pulled away slightly, looking up at Phil with questioning eyes. “What do you mean? I don’t- I’m not forcing you to do anything just because I can’t handle shit- We’ve got work and editing and-” 

“Dan.” Phil cut him off, looking him straight in the eye and smoothing down Dan’s arms as he spoke. “We can’t just disappear of the face of the earth forever, unfortunately there’s about ten years of content and a few million people’s memories that we can’t erase.” He said, and Dan flinched at that. “But we can rent a car, and we can drive, and we can work this out, together.” 

Dan wiped his sleeve across his eyes, biting his lip again as he looked away, contemplating what Phil was suggesting. “I don’t- I don’t want anyone to know where we are, Just for once, okay? I don’t- Can I just not take my phone?” 

Phil laughed a little, slipping his hand into the front pocket of Dan’s jacket and pulling the slim device out and sliding it into the pocket of his own hoodie. “We’ll go full ghost, it’s fine. We’ll be fine, yeah?” 

Dan nodded, giving him a tiny smile that melted away about a hundred pounds of worry that were weighing on Phil's shoulders. He knew it wasn’t a permanent fix, he knew that this was a tiny chip away at a much larger problem, but he was able to make Dan smile again, and that was a start. 

Dan had run off to shove a few changes of clothes into their bags, and Phil had excused himself to the restroom to type out the briefest email possible to their manager. He didn’t tell her where they were going, but she deserved to know they weren’t dead. The workload when they got back was going to be miserable, but it would be worth it, Phil knew that. 

That’s how he found himself where he was now. Early morning on some quiet Northern highway, surrounded by fog and green hills. Dan, asleep beside him without any worry lines creasing his features for once. Phil wasn’t sure what today would bring, or when would be the right time for them to return home and begin to figure out what was next for them, but that was okay. 

He let one hand free from the wheel and rested it onto Dan’s leg, swirling small circles onto the soft black fabric of his boyfriend’s joggers.

They were a team, they’d figure this out.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted anything in 100 years so I know this is gonna be godawful but please let me know if I should write for this pairing more?


End file.
